


choosing the right place to put it

by hellodeer



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, they adopt an asshole cat!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24091342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellodeer/pseuds/hellodeer
Summary: Seungcheol lets Wonwoo adopt a cat. It's a lot worse than he thought it would be.
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Jeon Wonwoo
Comments: 34
Kudos: 158
Collections: Seventeen Rare Pair Fest: Round 1





	choosing the right place to put it

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [SVTRarePairFest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SVTRarePairFest) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> And they were roommates! Seungcheol finally caves and let's Wonwoo adopt a cat like he's always wanted. Seungcheol ends up falling in love with the cat too and realizes he's been in love with Wonwoo the whole time.
> 
> *
> 
> cats and seventeen? seventeen and cats? sign me up!!!!
> 
> i want to say a huge thank you to ying (@the8ology on twitter) for beta-ing this fic and giving me lots of nice feedback! thank you!!! also thank you to the mods of svt rare pair fest for putting this cool event together!!!
> 
> just for visual reference, this is [luna](https://vfan-phinf.pstatic.net/a/2jjeah/i_7bgUd018svc1qrpnezru18pc_flwcz4.jpg) [the](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/Dl1GFzMU4AAwku0.jpg) [cat](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/67/ff/f8/67fff86d28f932a1947a90eaab7c7c13.jpg)

To anyone who knew him, it was no secret that Seungcheol liked cute things. 

He’d always been a fan of girl groups, especially the ones who did soft and lovely concepts, with lots of pink and red and gold. He liked to look at beautiful girls from a distance, averting his eyes when they glanced back at him. Sometimes he liked to look at beautiful boys, too. He used to pick up flowers in a park near his middle school because they were so pretty, and he’d take them home to see the fond smile that blossomed on his mother’s face. Seungcheol was also partial to small children and their chubby little cheeks, but, most of all, he liked baby animals.

Probably because he’d grown up with a dog. Jelly was a small, brown spaniel that Seungcheol’s parents gifted his older brother when he turned thirteen. His brother didn’t care much for the dog after about a month, but Seungcheol _loved_ her. She cried when he left home for school, and licked excitedly at his ankles when he came back. They walked for hours around the neighborhood every day, slept on the same bed, and were generally the best of friends. During his first year of college, he cried at least three times a week from missing her so bad. Sometimes he still does.

So he liked pets. Loved them, even. He wasn't opposed to having a dog, or any other animals at all, like—

“A cat.”

“What?” Seungcheol asked, distracted, looking up from a box full of plates on the kitchen counter to blink at Wonwoo. 

Wonwoo blinked back.

“We could get a cat,” Wonwoo said. He brushed past Seungcheol and zigzagged through mountains of cardboard boxes to dump an armful of books on the couch. “I volunteer at the cat shelter two blocks over, and there are a lot of them who need homes.”

Seungcheol frowned. He entertained the idea for a couple of minutes and liked it, liked it even more because it came from Wonwoo, who was caring and responsible and always so honest. 

But.

“We just moved here, Wonwoo-yah,” Seungcheol said. “Literally, just this morning. Everything’s still in boxes.”

“Cats love boxes,” Wonwoo deadpanned. Seungcheol could see the corners of Wonwoo’s mouth trying very, very hard not to quirk upwards.

“You know what I mean,” he rolled his eyes. “Like, pets cost a lot of money, which neither of us has right now. And we’d have to check with the landlord first.”

“Ah, who do you take me for, hyung?” Wonwoo placed a hand on his chest, mock-offended. “The building allows pets, I checked it.”

Seungcheol sighed. He finished stacking the plates in the cupboard above the sink and closed the box, turning to Wonwoo fully.

“What if this,” he gestured to the apartment at large, to Seungcheol’s couch full of Wonwoo’s books in an otherwise bare living room, to the both of them. “doesn’t work out? What if we fight all the time and decide we can’t live together anymore? I don’t think a cat would be good in those circumstances.”

“Right,” Wonwoo looked thoughtful, face scrunched up, like the possibility had never occurred to him before. “That could happen.”

Seungcheol walked to where Wonwoo was standing and punched him in the arm playfully. Wonwoo gasped, falling backwards dramatically, and Seungcheol caught him with a giggle.

“I’m not saying no forever,” Seungcheol said, voice soft. “Just not right now, okay? We can get a cat later.”

Two years later, they renew their lease. Living with Wonwoo is easy. He cleans the apartment at least once a week, does his dishes right after dinner and never leaves his clothes lying around. He has a habit of singing old hip-hop songs to himself, which Seungcheol finds more endearing than annoying. Some days they hang out and some days they don’t see each other at all, but Seungcheol is always aware of Wonwoo - sitting on the couch reading his book of the week, talking to himself loudly as he plays Overwatch in his room, the lingering smell of his cologne after he leaves for work.

It’s quiet. Comfortable. Nice.

They still don’t have a cat.

***

On weekdays, Seungcheol wakes up at seven. He moves around the apartment on tiptoes because Wonwoo is still sleeping, grabs a banana and his gym bag and heads out the door. He stays for about an hour at the gym just around the corner, where he sometimes listens to upbeat K-pop songs and sometimes listens to Chan complain about his senior year of college. Breakfast is ready on the table by the time he returns. Wonwoo, soft and warm with sleep, welcomes him back with a smile. They eat in silence - no louder than chopsticks against bowls and cups against wood and Wonwoo’s jaw almost unhinging around a yawn and their eyes meeting across the table.

Wonwoo leaves for the bookstore while Seungcheol does the dishes, then waters the plants on the windowsill in the living room, then showers. The walk to work is short, and he gets there by nine-thirty.

“Good morning,” he tells the room at large, earning waves and grunts from the other teachers. He sits next to Mrs. Jungeun, notices her grey hair is loose around her shoulders today and she’s smiling at her phone. “Something good happened, Jungeun-nim?”

“Oh yes,” she answers. She giggles into her hand, which is so far from her usual severe look that Seungcheol pushes his chair back a little bit. “My grandson was born last night.”

She turns the phone towards him. On the screen there’s a picture of a baby, red-faced and squished and a little bit ugly. Seungcheol can’t help but coo at it.

“He’s beautiful. Congratulations,” he says. “Is your daughter-in-law okay?”

“Perfectly fine.”

Seungcheol hums. “Your son must be really happy, then.”

“Oh, he’s over the moon,” her smile turns into a smirk, smug across her face. “And also terrified. Now he’ll know what it’s like to raise a child.”

“Must be hard.”

“The hardest thing one can ever do,” she sighs. “But it’s all worth it. You’ll know it too, someday.”

Chanwook snickers behind them.

“Who, Seungcheol-ssi?” he plants his hands on Seungcheol’s shoulders with way more force than necessary. Seungcheol whines, shrugging him off. “He doesn’t even have a girlfriend yet!”

“Really?” Mrs. Jungeun frowns at him. “A handsome young man like you should have a girlfriend. I can help you find one.”

“It’s no use, seonsaengnim,” Chanwook says, shaking his head before Seungcheol even opens his mouth to retort. “I’ve tried to introduce him to my girlfriend’s friends hundreds of times, but he says he doesn’t want to.”

“Why?”

They stare at him curiously, like the children at school when they think they’re about to hear good gossip. Seungcheol knows they mean well, just like how his mother and brother mean well, just like how his friends mean well, but still. He sighs.

“I’m fine like this,” is what he says, smiling at Mrs. Jungeun and Chanwook.

 _I’m fine like this_ , he thinks, watching his students run around the gym with the endless amount of energy only twelve year olds stuck inside a stuffy classroom all day can muster.

 _I’m fine like this_ , he thinks, browsing the aisles of the grocery store nearby the apartment until he finds Wonwoo’s favorite ramen.

 _I’m fine like this_ , he thinks again, unlocking the front door to find Wonwoo with a book on the couch, their old TV playing the news on mute.

It hits Seungcheol like a furious wave in a rebellious sea: the urge to lean his head on Wonwoo’s shoulder and hug his ridiculously tall frame, to rest his bones against this friend’s bones until the exhaustion of the day melts away.

So he does just that.

“Hey,” Wonwoo says, voice low and soft. He bookmarks his place and closes the book, brings his arms around Seungcheol.

“Hey,” Seungcheol sighs, breath ghosting over Wonwoo’s collarbone. “I bought you ramen.”

He gestures vaguely to the bag he’s still holding, the plastic cold behind the arm of the couch and Wonwoo’s waist.

Wonwoo hums in acknowledgment. “My hero,” he says. “But I don’t feel like cooking tonight. Wanna go to Soonyoung’s place to see if they have food?”

Seungcheol thinks about the muffins and cookies Soonyoung brings home from the coffeeshop sometimes, and about Hansol who’s learning to cook between job interviews. Then he thinks about where he is, comfortable in the embrace of Wonwoo’s arms, in their warm apartment that smells like lavender, and shakes his head no.

“I don’t feel like going outside,” he says. “Don’t even feel like leaving this couch ever again.”

“Tough day at work?” Wonwoo asks, long fingers massaging Seungcheol’s scalp.

“Not really,” he answers, which is not a lie. The children behaved okay and lunch was decent and he even got complimented by the principal, but the conversation with Mrs. Jungeun and Chanwook stayed with him all day. It was weird. “Just feeling a little tired. And hungry.”

“Maybe Mingyu will bring us leftovers if we ask nicely.”

“He’d probably do it even if we _don’t_ ask nicely,” Seungcheol laughs.

“True.”

There’s a smile on Wonwoo’s voice. Hearing it makes Seungcheol smile too, as he gets his phone from his back pocket and unlocks it to text Mingyu.

 **ME**  
hey mingyu-yah! can wonwoo and i have leftovers tonight? pretty please? imagine i am batting my eyelashes at you  
wonwoo is too

“Stop lying,” Wonwoo says. The smile is still there.

 **MINGYU**  
lol okay hyung  
i think there’s enough for u 2 too  
im leaving work in 10

 **ME**  
you’re the best!!!!!!!!! <3333

 **MINGYU**  
😘

Wonwoo unmutes the TV while they wait. It’s a drama now, where the female lead cries in the rain for reasons Seungcheol doesn’t know. He drifts off after the male lead finds her and covers her with an umbrella, waking up with a start when the doorbell rings.

“I’ll get it,” Wonwoo says.

“No, no,” Seungcheol unfolds himself from around Wonwoo with a sigh, gets up and stretches. “I’ll go.”

The doorbell rings again and again, non-stop, until Seungcheol opens the door to a smiling Mingyu.

“Yah, Kim Mingyu!” Seungcheol yells, fake-mad.

“Hey, hyung,” Mingyu says cheerfully. He smells like sweat and fire and oil. “Got you fried chicken and rice. Made them myself!”

He stuffs his chest out, all proud and smiley, holding out a bag to Seungcheol.

“Thank you, Mingyu-ssi,” Seungcheol says, taking it. “I’m sure it’s delicious.”

“Hell yeah!” Wonwoo yells from inside the apartment. “Thank you!”

Just then, Seokmin rounds the corner at the end of the hall. He smiles when he sees them, waves, says _good evening_ and disappears inside the apartment next to Seungcheol and Wonwoo’s.

“Do you want to eat with us?” Seungcheol asks Mingyu.

“No, thanks, hyung,” he points over his shoulder with his thumb, to the door of his own apartment just across from them. “Jihoon-hyung hasn’t slept in two days, so I gotta make sure he at least eats.”

“Yeah, do that,” Seungcheol says. “Thanks again!”

Mingyu salutes and turns around, and Seungcheol closes the door. Wonwoo has set the table, so they sit to eat in comfortable silence. Until:

“Do you wanna come to the shelter with me on Saturday?” Wonwoo asks, mouth red and full of kimchi. “Chan is coming too.”

“I can’t,” Seungcheol says. “I’m going to help Seungkwan buy a new chair.”

“Oh, okay. It’s just that you look a little stressed out, so I thought petting some cats might help.”

Seungcheol sighs. Leaves his chopsticks on top of the almost-empty bowl.

“It’s just something Jungeun-nim and Chanwook-hyung said this morning. I guess it’s been on my mind all day.”

“What did they say?”

Wonwoo’s voice is gentle. Wonwoo’s voice is always gentle, soft, low, comforting. There’s a melody to it, a tone Seungcheol likes a lot, that makes him think of warm blankets and cozy mornings in bed. Wonwoo asks questions like he actually wants to hear the answer, like he cares, like Seungcheol’s worries are worthy of his time and brain space. It’s nice to have someone listen like that.

“That I need a girlfriend.”

Wonwoo looks surprised for a moment, eyes growing wide and eyebrows rising. Then he puts his chopsticks down too, looks Seungcheol directly in the eye.

“Do you want one?”

“Not really,” Seungcheol shrugs. He’s been thinking about it all day: about how his parents were already married and had a child when they were his age. But that’s them, it’s not him. Twenty-five is still young, and he doesn’t want to date just anyone for the sole purpose of having a family. He wants to meet someone, and fall in love, and have them fall in love with him too. Then he’ll date. Then he’ll have a family. And it’s not like he’s lonely, either - he has Wonwoo. That’s good for now. “Just being with you is enough.”

“You said that to him?” Seungkwan says, a frown on his face and hands on his hips, as he looks at Seungcheol disapprovingly between rows of identical chairs at the furniture store on Saturday. “That’s cruel, hyung.”

Seungcheol frowns back. “Why?”

“Think about it.”

Seungcheol thinks about it. Thinks about how, after he said that, Wonwoo’s mouth twisted into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Thinks about how Wonwoo said he was glad, and tired, and left the dishes in the sink. Thinks about how Wonwoo didn’t shower or brush his teeth, just retreated to his bedroom with a quiet “good night”. Seungcheol thinks about it, and comes to no conclusion at all.

“I don’t know, Seungkwannie, tell me,” he whines.

“You’re really smart, hyung,” Seungkwan shakes his head, sighs, and goes back to wandering around. “But really dumb about a lot of things.”

“That’s not a nice thing to say to your favorite hyung who’s helping you buy a new chair.”

Seungkwan waves a dismissive hand. “I only asked you because you’re a nerd.”

“Excuse _you_ ,” Seungcheol says, faking offense. “I’m a _gamer_.”

“So, a nerd.”

“Well, if that’s the case you could have asked Wonwoo or Jihoon, but you didn’t,” he drapes himself over Seungkwan’s back, squeezing him a little. “Which means _I_ am your favorite hyung.”

He doesn’t see it, but he can feel Seungkwan rolling his eyes. Seungkwan pats the arms wrapped around his neck. “Yes, yes, you’re my favorite hyung.”

“Been your favorite since college.”

“Hmmm, whatever you say,” then he points to a huge chair, blue and white. “Ohh, what about that one, hyung?”

Later that night, before dinner, Seungcheol waters the plants on the windowsill. There’s four of them: the peperomia was a housewarming gift from Seungcheol’s mother, the succulent a gift from Minghao for helping him move upstairs, the pothos Seungcheol bought because it reminded him of Wonwoo for some reason and the spider plant Wonwoo got him because he thought Seungcheol would like it. He did. He does.

He’s just thinking maybe the pothos needs a trim, since the leaves almost reach the floor now, when Wonwoo opens the door.

“Hey,” Seungcheol greets, then frowns when he gets a look at Wonwoo’s face. His lips are shaped into a pout, eyebrows drawn together. His shoulders are up to his ears. “What happened?”

“Luna got adopted,” Wonwoo says, flopping on the couch in the saddest posture Seungcheol has ever seen.

It takes a second for Seungcheol to remember who Luna is, but then he does: Wonwoo’s favorite cat in the shelter, a huge grey thing that probably takes up most of the space on Wonwoo’s phone gallery.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Seungcheol sits on the space left on the couch. He pats Wonwoo’s hand, and Wonwoo turns it, palm up, so Seungcheol intertwines their fingers. “He’s going to have a home now, Wonwoo-yah.”

“I know,” Wonwoo sighs. “I’m happy for him. Just sad that I won’t get to see him again.”

“You could ask his new family to send pictures?”

“Maybe.”

The pout stays on Wonwoo’s face, so Seungcheol gets a book from the shelf and reads it aloud in funny character voices until Wonwoo laughs and throws a cushion at him.

The next day is a Sunday. Sundays are Seungcheol’s favorite: he doesn’t have work, Wonwoo usually doesn’t have work, and they can sleep in and just hang out the entire day. They wake up at noon, have lunch together, go grocery shopping, sometimes play Overwatch after that or just watch TV curled up on the couch. It’s easy. Simple. Nice.

That particular Sunday, Seungcheol wakes up at eleven. He knows Wonwoo is still upset about the cat getting adopted, so he figures making Wonwoo his favorite meal would cheer him up, even if it’s just by a little bit. 

He starts by cooking the rice. Wonwoo likes it really dry, so Seungcheol doesn’t add a lot of water to the pot. When the rice is finished, he leaves it to cool down while he cuts their kimchi. It’s convenience store kimchi, instead of the homemade, delicious kimchi their mothers send sometimes, but it’ll have to do. Seungcheol will cook it with extra care to make up for it.

After he’s done cutting, he preheats a pan over medium heat. Adds the cooking oil. Adds garlic and stirs it until it’s golden. Adds the kimchi. Wonwoo likes mushrooms, so he adds some too, hoping they’ve not gone bad after being in their fridge for a couple of weeks. They smell fine, anyway.

He reduces the heat to low and adds the rice and some kimchi juice. Mixes everything well, then adds sesame oil and mixes it some more. When the rice is brown he serves it onto two plates. To Wonwoo’s he adds sesame seeds and green onions, and to his own all that plus seaweed strips. Then he fries an egg.

By the time Wonwoo wakes up and wanders into the kitchen, Seungcheol is placing the fried egg on top of Wonwoo’s kimchi fried rice.

“Morning, hyung,” he says, yawning. “Smells nice.”

“Eat up, Wonwoo-yah, before it gets cold.”

They share the meal in comfortable silence. Seungcheol notices Wonwoo smiling at his food as he eats it and considers that a victory. After they’re finished, Wonwoo washes the dishes. He hums while doing it, singing along to a song in his head that Seungcheol doesn’t recognize.

Then they go to the big grocery store three blocks over, because now they’re out of rice and kimchi and mushrooms and other stuff too, like toothpaste and cleaning products. It’s not too crowded but Seungcheol keeps close to Wonwoo anyway, a hand on his shoulder or the small of his back while Wonwoo pushes the shopping cart. He forbids Seungcheol from getting the cereal with too much sugar in it but lets him have his favorite ice cream.

Maybe it’s weird, Seungcheol thinks, walking back home with arms full of groceries, that buying stuff like toiletries with his roommate is one of his favorite activities ever. But it’s just _nice_. Wonwoo is nice. Time spent with him is never wasted time.

So Seungcheol is happy when they get home. He puts their shopping away with a smile on his face, and when he spots Wonwoo on the couch, hands covered by the sleeves of his sweater, it grows bigger and bigger until he’s positively beaming.

A few days after that it’s Jeonghan’s birthday. He invites everyone from the apartment complex and a few of his coworkers to go out on a Wednesday. It’s the middle of the week, with work and school the next day, but they all go, because it’s Jeonghan. Also, because—

“This is it, hyungs,” Chan says, rubbing his hands together as they walk to the restaurant. “Tonight is the night we finally find out what Jeonghan-hyung does for a living.”

“He works for the government,” Wonwoo points out. “He’s told us multiple times.”

“Yes, but what does he _do_ , exactly?” Junhui pushes, eyes wide and a little crazed. “He refuses to answer that question.”

Chan nods enthusiastically. “He could be a spy, for all we know.”

“Jeonghan-hyung, a spy?” Seungkwan scoffs.

“It actually makes a lot of sense,” Seungcheol says. Chan and Junhui turn to him with twin looks of hope, so he decides to humor them. “He’s pretty sly and good at lying. And he would make a good spy because no one would suspect that face.”

Junhui points at him, so excited he’s almost vibrating out of his skin. “Exactly!”

“Tonight is the night!” Chan repeats, throwing his hands up to the heavens.

Tonight turns out to not be the night. They try to ask Jeonghan questionst, Junhui and Chan getting less and less subtle as the hours tick by, but between the food and the drinks and the happy atmosphere of the place, it’s hard to figure out much of anything. Jeonghan’s coworkers are no help at all: all five of them dress pristinely, not a hair out place, drink too much and refuse to say a single thing about work.

Seungcheol spends most of the night pressed between Jisoo and someone named Yoon Subin (“Suspicious!” Chan whispers furiously after introductions. “All of Jeonghan-hyung’s coworkers have the same last name as him! _All_ of them!”). Yoon Subin has long, straight black hair that brushes softly against Seungcheol’s arm, skin that glows under the lights, warm brown eyes and the prettiest smile Seungcheol has seen in a while. They chat and chat and chat, clink glasses and share food. Yoon Subin has a really nice voice, Seungcheol’s head buzzes pleasantly from the alcohol, everything is good and sweet except—

“Hey,” Wonwoo taps Seungcheol’s shoulder. He turns around to find Wonwoo with his hands deep in the pockets of his coat, shoulders hunched. “I’m going home.”

Seungcheol looks at his watch. Barely ten o’clock. “Already?” 

“I just feel like going home,” Wonwoo shrugs.

Seungcheol exhales long through his mouth. He makes to get up, but Wonwoo pushes him gently down by the shoulders.

“You don’t have to come with me,” he says.

But Seungcheol does. They always leave together, and more than that, Wonwoo’s gaze is unfocused and milky, his cheeks flushed pink from the alcohol. For the three hours they’ve been here, every time Seungcheol happened to look at Wonwoo, he’d seen him clutching a new bottle of beer or glass of soju. Wonwoo sways a little where he stands, and Seungcheol reaches out a hand to steady him. Wonwoo relaxes into his touch, then jerks away.

“You can’t go back like this alone,” Seungcheol frowns.

“Mingyu is coming with me,” Wonwoo waves a hand towards the door, where Mingyu stands with his arms crossed, looking at Seungcheol with the sourest expression he has ever seen. He didn’t even know Mingyu’s super friendly face could twist into such an ugly and unpleasant thing. Seungcheol blinks, confused. “It’s fine, really, hyung. Enjoy your night.”

Wonwoo bows his head briefly to Yoon Subin and walks on wobbly legs to the door. Mingyu wraps an arm around Wonwoo’s shoulder, gives Seungcheol one last cold look, and then they leave.

“Alright,” Seungcheol tells the air where Wonwoo had been. Just as the door is about to close, he yells, “Let me know when you get home!”

He can’t tell if they heard him. And now there’s something unruly in his stomach, a weird feeling— that Mingyu hates him, that he hurt Wonwoo and didn’t even know it.

He goes back to talking to Yoon Subin, but his attention isn’t on her like it was before. He keeps thinking about Wonwoo’s tense shoulders, the sad downwards curve of his mouth. He fidgets until he gets a text from Mingyu, a short _dropped him off at your place_ , and continues to fidget after that.

Everyone leaves about an hour later. Seungcheol itches to go home and talk to Wonwoo, to understand what’s going on, but Yoon Subin stops him outside with a hand on his arm. She gives him her number.

Seungcheol goes home. The light in the entrance hall is on, but the rest of the apartment is dark and quiet. Wonwoo’s bedroom door is closed. Seungcheol debates on knocking, maybe waking him up to talk about whatever is going on, but the side of his brain that’s against it presents better arguments and wins. So he drinks some water, brushes his teeth and goes to his own bedroom for a night of fitful sleep.

When he gets back from the gym the next morning, breakfast is on the table, but Wonwoo is already gone. At night, almost nine o’clock, Wonwoo still isn’t home. Seungcheol knows his shift at the bookstore ended at five, because it’s Thursday, but it’s almost nine o’clock and Wonwoo still isn’t home.

 **ME**  
hey, everything okay?

It’s a few minutes of Seungcheol’s heart almost beating out of his chest with worry before his phone vibrates.

**WONWOO**  


**ME**  
oh she’s getting thinner

 **WONWOO**  
myungho put her on a diet  
she asks for food every time she sees me :(

 **ME**  
poor baby :((  
you gonna eat there?

 **WONWOO**  
yeah myungho is cooking

Seungcheol frowns at his phone. Then at the ceiling, but it’s not like Wonwoo can see him through the floor of Minghao’s apartment. Then at the table laid out for two people, Wonwoo’s favorite ramen cooked and waiting for him.

No more messages come. Seungcheol eats his ramen then Wonwoo’s, somehow managing to swallow it all past the lump in his throat. He misses Wonwoo, wants to see his pretty face, hear his soft voice. Wants to curl up next to him on the couch and maybe fall asleep to Wonwoo’s smell, but even after he’s done brushing his teeth and turning off the lights, Wonwoo still isn’t home.

When he gets back from the gym the next morning, breakfast is on the table, and Wonwoo, hair tousled from sleep, is yawning in the kitchen.

“Morning,” he says. There’s a hint of a smile on the curved shell of his lips - small, hesitant, but just enough to make Seungcheol feel like coming home.

“Hey,” Seungcheol answers. He stops at the invisible line where the living room becomes the kitchen. “Is everything okay? Did I do something to upset you?”

Wonwoo shakes his head no. “You didn’t do anything, hyung. I’m just tired, I guess.”

He’s not lying, but he’s not telling the truth, either. Seungcheol knows, because he knows Wonwoo.

“You can talk to me about anything, Wonwoo-yah.”

“I know. I’m okay, I promise.”

Seungcheol sighs. He won’t press, but it breaks his heart to know there’s something Wonwoo won’t trust him with. He wants to help, to share the burden of whatever it is Wonwoo is carrying. Except that’s not up to him, so he says, “Okay,” and sits down to eat breakfast. Wonwoo joins him.

Friday turns into Saturday. Wonwoo goes to the cat shelter again, and Seungcheol goes upstairs to hang out at Seungkwan’s place. Chan is out practicing for his end-of-year recital at the dance academy, Junhui is still sleeping, so it’s just Seungkwan and Seungcheol talking about work for a while. Junhui wakes up around lunchtime and then Seokmin joins them too. They spend most of the afternoon playing video games while Seungkwan runs commentary and blasts Beyonce from his speakers.

Wonwoo is back from the shelter when Seungcheol goes home. He’s yanking clothes from the clothesline with so much force that a shirt almost rips in two.

“What happened?” Seungcheol asks, surprised. There’s a pile of clothes and bedsheets on the table, all unfolded, which isn’t like Wonwoo at all. Seungcheol begins to sort what’s his and what’s Wonwoo’s, folding Wonwoo’s shirts and pants carefully.

“They gave Luna back,” Wonwoo seethes.

“What?” Seungcheol frowns. “Why?”

“Said he’s ‘too difficult’,” Wonwoo makes air quotes, anger coming off of him in waves while he’s got a pillowcase and Seungcheol’s gym shorts tossed over his shoulder. “Like, fuck you, asshole. He’s a cat!”

“That’s really awful,” Seungcheol says, indignation filling him too.

Wonwoo dumps the last of the clothes on the table and sits heavily on one of the chairs. All fight seems to drain out of him and he just looks tired, sad, upset. He picks up a shirt and listlessly folds it.

“I really love Luna,” he says, voice choked. He wipes the tears from his eyes before they can fall. “He is a little difficult, yes, but so what? He’s the best cat ever. I want him to have a good home.”

 _We have a good home_ , Seungcheol thinks. He looks at Wonwoo slowly folding clothes, trying to hold back tears, and wants nothing more than to see him happy.

“Well,” Seungcheol starts. Stops, bites his lips. Thinks it through again, and decides to go for it. “Bring him here, then.”

Wonwoo turns sharp eyes on him. Seungcheol just smiles under his gaze.

“Do you mean it, hyung?” Wonwoo asks, almost breathless. He looks like he might finally let himself cry, but for the right reasons. “We can adopt him?”

“Sure,” Seungcheol shrugs.

Wonwoo hugs him, arms tight around his shoulders. Seungcheol rests his head on the curve of Wonwoo’s neck, wrapping hands around his waist.

“Thank you so much, hyung,” Wonwoo whispers. He sounds delighted. Seungcheol is happy he’s happy.

“No need to thank me, Wonwoo-yah. I’m sure Luna isn’t that bad.”

***

Luna is a nightmare.

But not at first. The moment Wonwoo arrives home from the shelter, beaming in a way Seungcheol has never witnessed before and would now like to see forever, he opens the carrier and the cat dashes out in a grey blur to hide under the couch. Wonwoo spends the entire day trying to get him to come out, bribing him with food and toys and loving words. Nothing works, so Seungcheol tells him to try again tomorrow, and they both go to bed at around eleven.

Seungcheol wakes up in the middle of the night. He’s disoriented for a minute, blinking in the darkness of his bedroom, trying to figure out what interrupted his peaceful slumber. He hears it then, so loud: a meow. Then another, then another, followed by the sound of claws scratching against the doorframe.

He groans. Checks his phone. Four in the motherfucking morning.

He figures if he ignores it, the cat will just stop and he can go back to sleep. But after almost five minutes, Luna is still meowing right outside his door, loud enough to probably wake the entire neighborhood.

Angry and very tired, Seungcheol gets up from his bed and throws open the door with maybe more force than necessary. The cat startles, and Seungcheol can only identify a dark shape running away from him, knocking things down in the living room.

“Fuck’s sake,” he sighs, just as Wonwoo emerges from his own bedroom.

“He’s probably hungry,” he says around a yawn. “Go back to bed, hyung. I’ll feed him.”

It’s like this for the entire week. Luna hides under the couch when they’re there in the mornings, but explores the apartment during the day. Seungcheol knows because when he gets home after work, there’s traces of him everywhere: his water bowl, supposed to be in the kitchen, toppled over in the middle of the living room. Wonwoo’s books fallen from the bookshelf. The rug in the bathroom on top of the toilet, somehow. A shoe Seungcheol left by the door all chewed up and drooled on.

But never does Luna make his presence known more than at four AM. He meows and scratches at their doors every morning, until Wonwoo tends to him, voice scratchy from sleep, saying, “Okay, Luna-yah, I’ll give you some food.” Seungcheol just tries to ignore it all, buries his face under his pillow and tries to go back to sleep, fighting off the urge to just throw the cat out the door.

It still fucks up his sleep schedule.

“You’ve been looking tired these days, Seungcheol-nim,” Mrs. Jungeun says one morning, handing Seungcheol a cup of coffee.

“It’s nothing,” he tells her, but it is _something_. Luna wakes him up at four, he only manages to go back to sleep at six, his alarm rings at seven, he skips the gym to sleep a bit more, then feels like shit for the rest of the day.

Seungcheol’s so sluggish and distracted he takes a ball to the face during class.

“I’m so sorry, seonsaengnim!” the student who kicked the ball says, bowing profusely. The rest of the kids are doing a very bad job of hiding their giggles, which only further Seungcheol’s humiliation.

“It’s nothing,” he tells her. Another student hands him a tissue for his bloody nose.

Seungcheol is miserable when he gets home. He spots Wonwoo sitting on the floor and wants nothing more than to fall into his warm embrace. 

Except Wonwoo’s got two big cardboard boxes, scissors, tape and his phone spread out in front of him.

“Wonwoo-yah,” Seungcheol frowns, walking closer. Wonwoo’s phone is playing a video with some instructions on the screen. “What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna build Luna a little house,” he says, eyes never leaving the video. “Maybe he’ll come out to play then.”

“That’s nice,” Seungcheol says. 

_He_ doesn’t feel nice at all, though. He wants to talk about his crappy day, to bury his face in Wonwoo’s neck and inhale his sweet scent and feel at ease, finally, but Wonwoo is concentrating on his phone, following instructions. Seungcheol sighs, a tight feeling he can’t name on his chest.

Then he notices the scratches all over the arms of the couch.

“Wonwoo-yah,” he whines loudly, pointing. “Look at this.”

Wonwoo pauses the video and lifts his eyes. “Oh, yeah, sorry,” he says, sheepish. “I haven’t had time to buy a scratching post yet, and he won’t let me clip his nails. He won’t even let me pet him, I barely even see him.”

Wonwoo sounds upset. Seungcheol is upset too. This couch was a gift from his _mother_ , and now it’s ruined.

“Was he this bad at the shelter?”

Wonwoo gives him a look, something sharp and hesitant and searching.

“No,” he says slowly. “He fought with the other cats, and sometimes refused to eat anything but chicken, but he was a good cat,” and, at Seungcheol’s doubtful look, adds, “He _is_. It’s just taking him some time to get used to the new space, is all.”

Seungcheol sighs. It’s taking _him_ some time to get used to the new roommate.

“What happened to your face, by the way?” Wonwoo asks, finally, and Seungcheol groans.

The next day after work, Seungcheol stops by the pet store for a scratching post. He leaves with the scratching post, a mouse-shaped toy, a cat tunnel and some very expensive salmon snacks. He dumps it all on Wonwoo when he gets home. Wonwoo stares at him for a full fifteen seconds, then the most brilliant smile breaks out across his face and he says, quietly, “Thank you.”

Seungcheol, breath kind of knocked out of his chest, can only answer “No problem.”

A few more days go by like this. Seungcheol still hasn’t even seen the cause of all his recent troubles yet, until one night he comes back from the gym (he goes straight after work now, usually bumps into Jihoon there) and finds Wonwoo sitting on the couch, a grey lump curled up on his lap. The lump turns lazily towards the door when it clicks shut, giving Seungcheol an unimpressed green-eyed stare.

“Oh, so that’s the cat.”

Seungcheol drops his gym bag to the floor. Luna startles, meows and jumps from Wonwoo’s lap to bury sharp claws on Wonwoo’s exposed left foot.

Seungcheol hisses in sympathy. Wonwoo beams.

***

It was hard when Luna was hiding, but it’s downright _impossible_ when he’s out and about.

He climbs up on the kitchen sink, where he knocks pots and pans over, and from there to the top of the fridge. Then he’s afraid to go down by himself and meows sadly while Seungcheol stares at him, considers leaving him there to teach him a lesson. When he does end up grabbing the cat, he is thanked with claws on his face and arms. If Seungcheol is cooking, Luna walks lazily between his legs, makes him trip or, out of the blue, sinks his teeth into Seungcheol’s calves hard enough to draw blood. 

Whenever Seungcheol is in the bathroom, the cat manages to open the sliding door and then just sits there, looking up at him while he showers or brushes his teeth. It’s creepy.

“I think he’s, like, a voyeur,” he tells Wonwoo, gesturing vaguely at where the cat is lying all comfortable on the rug, watching him floss.

Wonwoo laughs from the doorway. “That’s just how cats are, hyung.”

Maybe it is, but it’s still weird. Especially when Seungcheol is on the toilet, doing his business, and the cat jumps on his lap and stares at him unblinking.

He doesn’t let Luna into his bedroom, keeps the door closed at all times. And yet all of his clothes seem to be permanently full of grey cat hair now.

There’s cat hair _everywhere_. They used to vacuum maybe once a week, but now Wonwoo vacuums every night, and there’s still cat hair left. It’s all over the couch, where Luna likes to nap, and the rugs, and under the table, and on Seungcheol’s _plants_.

“I can’t believe this,” he mutters darkly, touching the leaves of his gorgeous, dark green pothos. They’re full of new, tiny holes. “Jeon Wonwoo! The cat is eating my plants!”

“Yeah, I saw that,” Wonwoo says. He’s lying on the hair-covered floor, waving around a toy that Luna jumps to try and catch, failing every time.

“And he’s also eating your glasses! And still scratching the couch!”

“I’ve talked to him about doing these things. He says he’s very sorry and won’t do them anymore. Right, Luna-yah?”

The cat jumps for the toy and misses, falls right on Wonwoo’s belly. And also continues to do all the things that infuriate Seungcheol.

On Sunday, Seungcheol wakes up bright and late. He’s in a good mood: Sundays are his favorite, because they mean lunch and then grocery shopping with Wonwoo. He’s missed Wonwoo lately; they live together, sure, but these days Wonwoo seems more interested in petting and cooing at the cat than hanging out with Seungcheol. So he’s excited when he goes to the kitchen and sees Wonwoo at the stove, thinking they’re finally going to catch up or maybe just exist next to each other for a bit, while he pretends the cat doesn’t exist.

“Hey,” he says. He wraps his hands around Wonwoo’s waist and hooks his chin over one of Wonwoo’s shoulders. There’s a pot filled with water waiting to boil in front of them. “Are you gonna cook ramen?”

“Nope,” Wonwoo answers. He relaxes against Seungcheol, his weight solid and warm on Seungcheol’s chest. “Just warming up some water to give Luna a bath.”

Seungcheol stills. “You’re giving the cat a bath? Don’t they hate it?”

“Oh yeah,” Wonwoo says, happy. What the hell. “Luna _really_ hates it. It used to take three of us to do it at the shelter because he’d attack us and try to run. But I’m positive we can do it, hyung.”

“We?” Seungcheol asks, voice weak.

“He likes warm water better than cold water, and I clipped his nails yesterday as a precaution. Missed a few, though.”

“Sorry, Wonwoo-yah,” he says, disentangling himself from Wonwoo as fast as he can. “I just remembered something I have to do!”

The something he has to do is marching upstairs and flopping facedown on Seungkwan’s couch.

“I hate that stupid cat,” he says to Seungkwan and Junhui and Chan. His Sunday, his precious, most anticipated day of the week is _ruined_. 

“It was your idea to bring the cat home, hyung,” Junhui says cheerfully, because he’s awful.

“And it was clearly a _horrible_ idea.”

“I was at your apartment just last night,” Seungkwan says. He changes the background music of Seungcheol’s sorrow from After School to Wonder Girls. _Be My Baby_ fills the living room. “I didn’t even see a cat.”

“That’s because he hides from everyone who isn’t Wonwoo or me,” Seungcheol says, then frowns. “Well, except Mingyu.”

“Mingyu is terrified of cats,” Seungkwan points out.

“Exactly. He could probably sense Mingyu’s fear and sat on his lap just to be a nuisance. Mingyu almost fainted.”

“He used to do that to other people at the shelter, too,” Chan says from the table, where he’s doing homework.

“Well, did you film Mingyu’s face?” Junhui asks. “I bet it was really funny.”

“My _life_ is not funny,” Seungcheol sighs. Seungkwan pats his head.

“If Luna is bothering you so much, why don’t you talk to Wonwoo-hyung?” asks Chan.

“I did talk to him. Like, multiple times. But he just says Luna’s like that because it’s his nature as a cat.”

“He’s not wrong,” Seungkwan says.

“Yes, he is! I get that it’s his nature to be a cat, but being an asshole is a choice!”

Junhui and Chan burst out laughing. Seungkwan only snorts, barely disguising it as a cough when Seungcheol glares at him.

“So Wonwoo-hyung isn’t doing anything,” he says.

“No,” Seungcheol complains. “He just baby talks to the cat all the time. Pets him and takes pictures of him all day, even when he’s doing nothing. And he lets the cat monopolize his lap! The cat even sleeps with him!”

Seungcheol realizes, in the absolute silence that follows, just how childish and whiny he sounds, talking shit about a cat. He suddenly feels his face flush red with embarrassment.

“So, basically,” Junhui’s voice rings out in the quiet. “You’re jealous.”

Seungcheol opens his mouth to retort, to say he’s not jealous of a cat, _obviously_ , but realizes, to his sudden shock and horror, that he actually _is_. Junhui is _right_.

“Ugh,” is what he ends up saying, covering his flaming cheeks with his hands. 

“Hyung, are you giving Luna back to the shelter?” 

Seungcheol stares at Chan, horrified.

“Of course not!” he says. Sometimes, vaguely, he does contemplate the idea. But. “That would break Wonwoo’s heart.”

“And you don’t want to break his heart,” Jun sing-songs.

“No, I don’t. He’s one of my best friends, I want him to be happy.”

Seungkwan rolls his eyes and sighs, deep and dramatic. Seungcheol doesn’t get it.

“So you’ll just have to learn to live with the cat,” Chan says. “Find a compromise with him, or something.”

When Seungcheol goes back home later that day, Wonwoo is nowhere to be found. It’s just Luna, fur a little bit wet, lying belly up on the couch.

“Alright,” Seungcheol tells the sleeping cat, feeling ridiculous. “Let’s find a compromise, Luna-yah.”

The cat doesn’t wake up. Seungcheol sighs.

“Or something.”

***

They get used to each other.

It helps that it’s mostly Wonwoo who takes care of the cat. Feeds him, cleans the litter box, brushes him, clips his nails. Seungcheol just buys the little monster food and litter, and they keep a respectful distance from each other.

So when Wonwoo announces, on a cold Monday in November, that he’s spending the next weekend celebrating his mother’s birthday back home, Seungcheol feels panic crawl its way up his throat.

“So it’ll just be me and,” he points, narrowing his eyes at the cat, who’s innocently lying on the windowsill among the plants. “him?”

“It’ll be fine, hyung,” Wonwoo says cheerfully. “He’s taken to you really well.”

“No, he hasn’t!”

Luna chooses that moment to get up, jump from the windowsill and stretch. He pads over to them and head-butts Seungcheol’s legs under the table.

“See?” Wonwoo smiles. He takes a picture of Luna. “He likes you.”

Luna, of course, sinks his tiny, murderous teeth in the flesh of Seungcheol’s left foot. He yelps in pain. Wonwoo sighs, picking the cat up.

“He hates me!” Seungcheol whines.

“He doesn’t.” Then, to the cat: “Luna-yah, we talked about this. You can’t bite Seungcheol-hyung.”

Wonwoo leaves on Saturday morning to return on Sunday night. He pets Luna’s head, tells him to behave, please, waves at Seungcheol and then he’s gone. It’s just Seungcheol and the cat for two whole days.

“Well,” Seungcheol tells Luna. “Don’t mess with me.”

The cat just stares at him, tail swishing from side to side. Then he yawns, jumps on the couch and curls up to nap.

To Seungcheol’s surprise, Saturday is uneventful. Luna sleeps all day, while Seungcheol cleans the house and plays a few games. Seungkwan comes over for dinner and Luna hides. Before bed, Seungcheol feeds the cat and cleans the litter box.

Sunday morning, after he feeds the cat at four AM and goes to sleep again, he wakes up with a text from Wonwoo.

**WONWOO**  


**ME**  
cute!  
happy birthday to your mom!

 **WONWOO**  
thanks hyung :)  
how’s luna?

 **ME**  
he’s good, actually  
was a perfect angel yesterday

 **WONWOO**  
😻

Luna is a perfect angel all morning too, perched on the windowsill watching the world outside. Seungcheol manages to cook and eat lunch peacefully, no cat to distract or attack him for no reason. When he’s thinking about whether to take a nap or watch a movie, his phone vibrates in his pocket.

 **JISOO**  
hey man! jam session at my place starting in 10. come on! :D

He walks to Jisoo’s apartment at the end of the hallway, where Jihoon, Soonyoung and Hansol are already in the living room. There’s fried chicken on the table, and Seungcheol grabs a piece before joining them.

“Hey,” Seungcheol claps Jihoon on the back, jostling him from slowly tuning his guitar. There are deep, dark bags under Jihoon’s eyes. “Haven’t seen you at the gym lately.”

“Work,” is all Jihoon says.

“Hmm,” he nods. “How’s the girl group going? Debuted yet?”

“Hyung,” Soonyoung says, hands on his hips, all stern. “This jam session is to take Jihoon’s mind off work. No talking about the girl group!”

“Alright,” Jisoo, with his own guitar in his lap and computer powered up behind him, smiles serenely at them. “I think today we could try an acoustic version of something. Any ideas?”

“I have,” Hansol puts his hand up, like a student in class.

So they end up doing an acoustic version of Tobi Lou’s Buff Baby, then Monsta X’s Shoot Out.

At some point Soonyoung says, excited, “I have an idea for a song. I was really inspired by this fried chicken.”

They all laugh, but Soonyoung is actually serious, and twenty minutes later they have a whole song about the fried chicken from the place just around the corner. Hansol and Soonyoung come up with silly lyrics that have Jihoon laughing on the floor with tears in his eyes.

After they record it and eat a few snacks, Seungcheol goes back to his own apartment. He finds it the way he left it: clean, smelling good, the cat on the windowsill.

Except his spider plant is down on the floor, its ceramic pot broken, earth everywhere.

The last bit of Seungcheol’s patience for the cat snaps.

“Yah!” he yells. The cat turns to look at him. “Luna! What did you do!”

Seungcheol crouches down by the remains of his spider plant. The spider plant Wonwoo gave him, because he thought Seungcheol would like it.

“You chewed her up, too,” he says, the bitten leaves between his fingers. “Stupid cat.”

Luna climbs down from the windowsill and head-butts Seungcheol’s arm, meowing. Seungcheol is so angry, and frustrated, and upset.

“Go away!” he bellows.

The cat, frightened, rushes out of the living room.

Seungcheol spends a good five minutes thinking up ways to save his plant, and when he finds none, another five minutes mourning her. He collects the broken ceramic, sweeps the earth and puts it all in a garbage bag. He stares at the plant one last time before she, too, goes in the bag.

He takes it outside. Walks back to his apartment, and realizes he left the door open.

“Luna?” he asks, going inside. The cat is not in the living room. “Luna-yah?”

He searches the entire apartment. The cat is nowhere to be found. He searches the building hallway, the stairs, the small patio in the back, and finds nothing. Heart hammering in his throat, he does the only thing he can think of: he knocks on Minghao’s door.

“Please help me,” he blurts out, as soon as Minghao unlocks his door.

“What happened?” Minghao frowns.

Just then, Minghao’s cat pokes her head between his legs, meowing. She looks up at Seungcheol with serious yellow eyes.

“The cat,” he swallows. “My cat is missing. I left the door open and now I can’t find him anywhere and— what if he’s out on the street? He doesn’t have a collar and it’s dangerous and—”

“Okay, hyung, breathe,” Minghao puts a hand on his arm, squeezes. “Calm down. Cats run away sometimes, but they come back. Let’s see if anyone in the building found him, okay?”

Seungcheol nods, desperation still pulsing in his blood. Minghao goes to Hansol and Soonyoung’s, while Seungcheol goes to Seungkwan’s. Chan opens the door.

“Is my cat here?” he asks, trying to peek around Chan to see inside the apartment.

“Why would he be?” Chan crosses his arms.

“He’s missing.”

“Shit,” Chan says, then yells into the apartment. “Seungkwan-hyung, Jun-hyung! Let’s go look for Luna!”

They knock on Jeonghan’s door, who hasn’t seen the cat either, but wants to help find him.

“Seungcheol-hyung and I will ask the neighbors downstairs,” Minghao directs, when they’re all together by the stairs. “You guys go searching on the streets near the building.”

“I’ll call the shelter, too,” Chan says. “Maybe he went back there.”

On Seungcheol’s floor, Minghao knocks on Jisoo’s door, then Seokmin’s. Seungcheol, scared shitless, goes over to Jihoon and Mingyu’s.

“What’s up, Cheolie-hyung!” Mingyu greets cheerfully.

“My cat is missing.”

“Oh no.” The smile drops from Mingyu’s boyish face.

Jisoo, Seokmin, Jihoon and Mingyu also go outside to look. Minghao says Seungcheol can’t join them.

“Stay here in case he comes back,” he says. “And I’ll help you look inside your apartment again.”

“You really don’t look too good, hyung,” Mingyu claps a hand on his shoulder. “Stay. We’ll find him, don’t worry.”

Seungcheol wants to argue, but can’t muster up any fight inside of him. All that he feels is fear, and guilt, and unease.

“Okay,” he says, and follows Minghao inside his own apartment. Minghao gets him a glass of water, which he takes with trembling hands.

“You sure you looked everywhere?” Minghao asks, voice gentle. “Cats are good at hiding.”

“I did,” he frowns, upset.

Minghao decides to double-check anyway. Seungcheol, suddenly very tired, sits on the couch and drinks his water slowly, checking his phone every five seconds for updates. Chan says Luna is not at the shelter. They haven’t found him on the streets, either.

Then Minghao yells from the bathroom:

“Found him!”

Seungcheol sprints to the bathroom to see Minghao standing next to the cabinet by the sink. From the top shelf, nestled among the cleaning products, Luna looks down at them.

“What,” Seungcheol says, dumbfounded. “How. The cabinet was closed!”

“Did you open it earlier?”

“Yes, to get a garbage bag.”

“You probably didn’t see him getting in and closed the door,” Minghao shrugs. “Cats do that. Once I spent two hours looking for Milk and found her inside my underwear drawer.”

“I can’t believe this. You little shit!” Seungcheol decides he’s angry at the cat again. That lasts for maybe three seconds, until he grabs Luna and holds him to his chest, relieved. Luna claws at his shirt. “Never do that again. I almost died from worry!”

The cat meows, distressed, and jumps from his arms back to the ground.

“I’ll call off the search party,” Minghao says.

Wonwoo comes back later that night. He’s heard all about Luna’s shenanigans from Mingyu.

“He did it on purpose,” Seungcheol whines, tucks his face into Wonwoo’s neck. “He hates me.”

Wonwoo laughs and laughs and laughs.

“He doesn’t hate you.”

Luna jumps on the couch and walks over until he’s sitting on Seungcheol’s lap.

“Ughhhh,” Seungcheol goes. Tentatively, he places a hand on Luna’s head. Luna licks his palm, bites gently and lets go.

“You’re both too cute,” Wonwoo says, hands over his heart. He snaps at least fifteen pictures.

Seungcheol scratches under Luna’s chin.

***

Luna continues to be a terrible nuisance all the time. Seungcheol still gets frustrated and mad at him almost daily, but when Luna licks his hand after biting and scratching it, Seungcheol forgives him. When Luna meows outside his bedroom door, Seungcheol lets him in. When Luna curls up to sleep next to him on the couch, or climbs on his lap, Seungcheol kisses the top of his grey little head.

“You’re a little monster,” he says, fondly, brushing Luna’s fur. “Just the worst.”

Luna yawns loudly. Seungcheol buries his face on Luna’s belly and gets a claw to the cheek.

In late December, just before the winter holidays, Mrs. Jungeun goes around the teacher’s room showing pictures of her grandson in a tiny Santa hat.

“Isn’t he just the cutest?” she coos.

“He’s adorable,” Chanwook says, and gets his phone out to show pictures of his little niece.

Seungcheol suddenly feels compelled to share too.

“Hey,” he says, almost shoving his phone in their faces. “Did you guys know I have a cat?”

They didn’t, because he never mentioned Luna before. So he makes sure they see all the pictures of Luna basking in the sun, or napping on the couch, or looking at the camera over Seungcheol’s shoulder.

“This is Luna,” he says, very proud of his terrible cat.

“She’s pretty big,” Chanwook says. “How old is she?”

“He’s two years old.”

“He?” Mrs. Jungeun frowns. “Isn’t Luna a girl’s name?”

Once, when Chan and Soonyoung were over for dinner, Chan made a similar comment before launching into the story behind Luna’s name. Soonyoung listened to everything in absolute silence, and then, when Chan was done, said, “We shouldn’t tie ourselves to gender norms, Chan-ah. Much less apply them to _cats_.”

Seungcheol doesn’t tell Mrs. Jungeun that, though.

“Well,” is what he says. “He was just a kitten when he was taken to the shelter. They thought he was a girl, so they named him that. When they figured out he was male, they tried to give him other names but he wouldn’t answer to anything that wasn’t Luna.”

“He’s very stubborn, then.”

“You have no idea, Jungeun-nim,” Seungcheol whines.

He slides to the next picture. It’s Wonwoo, just the top of his head visible as he bends down to give the cat on his lap his full attention.

“This is my roommate, Wonwoo,” he smiles. He wants to tell them everything about Wonwoo, brag about his intelligence and his beauty and his kindness. “He volunteers at the cat shelter we adopted Luna from. He _really_ loves cats. And books! He’s always reading one. He works at a bookstore.”

“You two seem close,” Chanwook says.

“Yeah!”

They have been close since they met online, both playing Overwatch on the same team and cursing at the players who were awful and made them lose. Seungcheol was in his first year of college and Wonwoo was finishing high school, so Seungcheol, trying to be a responsible hyung, would often tell Wonwoo to quit playing and go study, then bug him a couple of hours later for another match.

They have been close since Wonwoo passed his exams and moved to Seoul too, and they met face to face at a café then watched a scary movie after, and Seungcheol held onto Wonwoo’s hand through almost all of it.

They have been closer since Wonwoo graduated college two years ago and sighed, “I really need to move closer to work, but for that I need a roommate,” and Seungcheol replied, “Oh, me too.”

He tells Mrs. Jungeun and Chanwook about it all, and it’s only when the bell rings that he realizes he spent the entire recess talking about Wonwoo.

At home, Luna greets him at the door.

“Hey,” he says, picking him up and kissing his nose. Luna meows.

“Hey,” Wonwoo says from the couch, where he’s lying on his back reading a book.

Seungcheol deposits Luna on Wonwoo’s stomach. Luna immediately curls up, comfortable.

“I bought toothpaste and dinner,” Seungcheol waves the plastic bag he’s carrying. The smell of hamburgers wafts through the air.

“Awesome,” Wonwoo smiles. “Thanks, hyung.”

Seungcheol just returns the smile.

***

New Year’s Eve slash Jisoo’s birthday celebration is at Hansol and Soonyoung’s, like it always is.

“You guys only love us for our balcony!” Soonyoung yells, almost midnight, too much beer and wine in his system.

“That’s not true,” Jeonghan says, very serious. His cheeks are dusted pink from a mix of the cold and the alcohol. “We love you for your turtle, too.”

“She’s so cute!” Seokmin giggles, patting the turtle’s shell gently. “Horangi, you’re awesome!”

They also love them because they have the best apartment in the entire complex. They have a bathtub. They have a _balcony_. It’s the biggest apartment in the building, but it’s still tiny and barely fits the thirteen of them. They spend all night bumping into each other, stepping on each other’s toes, talking too loud for such close distance.

At midnight, they all cram into the balcony to watch the fireworks explode in the sky. Seungcheol’s face and hands freeze from the cold, his whole body shivering until Wonwoo wraps his arms around him. Seungcheol continues to shake, but it’s a little more bearable when Wonwoo smiles and says, “Happy new year, hyung”, breath visible in the space between them. The light from the fireworks illuminates Wonwoo’s face, blue and green and pink and purple. He’s very handsome like this, but then again, he’s always handsome.

Seungcheol smiles back. Says “Happy new year, Wonwoo-yah.”

A couple of days later, Seungcheol emerges from his bedroom at dinnertime after five hours of playing Overwatch, hungry for food and a bit of Wonwoo’s attention.

“Hey,” he says, moving to the kitchen. “Do we have leftovers from New Year’s Eve? If not, do you think Hansol and Soonyoung still have some? Because—”

He stops, frowns. Wonwoo is hovering by the front door, dressed up nice and clean, blushing.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. He looks uncomfortable. “I’m going out.”

“I see that,” Seungcheol raises his eyebrows. “What’s up?”

“I have a date.”

Wonwoo looks into his eyes when he says that. Seungcheol stares back.

“With who?”

“Some guy,” Wonwoo gestures vaguely with his hand. “Works with Myungho.”

“Okay,” Seungcheol says, nods. “Have fun.”

“Thanks, hyung.”

Wonwoo closes the door softly behind him when he leaves. Seungcheol keeps standing where he is, wondering why the apartment suddenly feels very cold and empty and _wrong_. He wonders why his chest feels tight, why the thought of Wonwoo on a date with some random guy just doesn’t seem right. 

Maybe because Wonwoo is awesome. He’s smart and kind and funny and handsome and a little bit weird, and he deserves someone just as awesome as him, not _some guy_ who works with Myungho. He deserves someone who knows his favorite food and cooks it for him, understands how he organizes his bookshelf (by theme, then author, then book height), loves his stupid cat too. He deserves the _best_.

There’s a thought nagging at Seungcheol, something forming at the back of his mind. He’s not sure what it is, tries to grasp it and bring it to light, but Luna head-butts his leg and bites his calf and Seungcheol lets it go.

He eats dinner with Luna. Watches TV with Luna. Brushes his teeth with Luna. Lies on his bed, and Luna curls up into the crook of his arm, kneading the blanket. He pets the top of Luna’s head and the cat purrs, looking at him with big green eyes.

“Don’t worry, buddy,” he sighs. “He’ll be home soon.”

It’s a couple more hours until Wonwoo gets home. Luna, who had been dozing off, lifts his head and looks around when they hear the front door open. Then he yawns, sighs, and goes back to sleep.

“Wonwoo-yah?”

Wonwoo hums in response, leans against the doorframe. It’s hard to see his face with only the moonlight flashing through the window and the blue glow of Seungcheol’s phone, but it looks like he’s smiling.

“How was the date?”

Wonwoo shrugs. “It was okay. Guy was nice.”

Seungcheol senses there’s a “but”.

“But?”

“But,” and here Wonwoo hesitates. Runs a hand through his hair, sighs. Looks at Seungcheol, but it’s impossible to make out his expression in the dark. Finally, voice low, he says, “But the whole time I was there with him, I could only think about coming home to you guys.”

 _You should always be home with us_ , Seungcheol thinks.

What he says is, “Well, Luna missed you.”

“Just Luna?” Wonwoo raises an eyebrow.

“Just Luna.”

“Okay,” Wonwoo sits next to Luna, burying his face in his fluffy belly. “Then I’ll only cuddle Luna.”

“Nooo,” Seungcheol pouts. 

Wonwoo chuckles, which annoys Luna. He bats softly at Wonwoo’s hair with a paw, then jumps over Seungcheol to lie by his feet. Seungcheol looks at Luna, feeling suddenly fond of the little monster, then turns his gaze to find Wonwoo already staring at him.

“Come here,” he says, opening his arms, and Wonwoo goes. Settles in bed with Seungcheol, head tucked in the crook of Seungcheol’s neck, their bodies flush together. Seungcheol throws a leg over him, his other foot tangling between Wonwoo’s. “Your feet are so cold.”

“Warm them up, then,” Wonwoo replies, voice rough with fatigue.

Seungcheol wakes up the next morning feeling very warm, a heavy weight on his chest. He blinks, looks down, and spots both Luna and Wonwoo lying on him. He chuckles softly and they both grunt in response, but don’t stir. Wonwoo has one arm thrown over Seungcheol’s body, hand placed gently on Luna’s back.

Seungcheol looks at that hand. It’s a pretty hand, fingers long and delicate, nails clean. There are tiny scratch marks all over it. Seungcheol wants to hold that hand, so he does, running his thumb over Wonwoo’s knuckles. Wonwoo squeezes Seungcheol’s hand in his sleep and Seungcheol looks at him then, at Wonwoo’s soft black hair, the curve of his nose, his sharp jaw. Wonwoo has always been beautiful, but here, illuminated by the slowly-rising sun, lips parted, breath ghosting over Seungcheol’s collarbone, he looks almost ethereal. 

There’s a bit of drool on Seungcheol’s shirt. Wonwoo snores lightly. Luna is very heavy. But Seungcheol doesn’t want to get up, happy and comfortable exactly where he is.

He combs his free hand through Wonwoo’s hair. Runs his index finger along the shell of Wonwoo’s ear. Realizes that, if he wanted to, he could lean over and kiss the soft spot behind it. Realizes he does want to.

It’s then that the thought comes to him, fully formed now, quiet and calm but firm, sure, true: _I’m in love with him_.

***

The realization isn’t earth-shattering. It does make Seungcheol think back to a few moments in his friendship with Wonwoo, makes him analyze his own thoughts and reactions under a different light, but it’s mostly just easy and quiet, like everything with Wonwoo is. He’s in love with Wonwoo; it’s a truth so simple he wonders how it took him this long to notice.

“So,” he tells Seungkwan one night after dinner, when Wonwoo is out with Mingyu and Hansol. “I’m in love with Wonwoo.”

Seungkwan stops in his attempt to pet Luna on the couch and snaps his head up to stare Seungcheol so fast the bones in his neck crack.

“What?” he asks, eyes wide, looking like his whole world is about to be turned on its axis.

“I’m in love with Wonwoo.”

“Are you serious, hyung?”

“Of course I’m serious, Seungkwannie,” Seungcheol pouts.

“Sorry, it’s just,” Seungkwan gestures vaguely at him, blinking, face still overwhelmed. “I really didn’t see that coming. Like, I didn’t even think you were gay.”

Seungcheol considers this. “I don’t know if I am. I’m not sure,” he frowns. “How did you know you were gay?”

Seungkwan rolls his eyes, sighs long-suffering. 

“I’ve only ever been attracted to men, hyung,” he says. “Romantically and sexually.”

“Well, I’m attracted to Wonwoo.”

“Romantically,” it’s not a question, but Seungcheol nods anyway. “Sexually?”

Seungcheol has thought about it. Seungcheol has thought about it _a lot_ , in fact: Wonwoo, lying on his bed, kissing him. Wonwoo shirtless on top of him, Wonwoo shirtless under him. Kissing and biting down Wonwoo’s chest, leaving marks on his feverishly hot skin. Going lower and lower, taking Wonwoo’s pants off, and then his underwear, and then—

He’s thought about it all, felt hot and aroused and scared and curious. Decided he would very much like to try, if Wonwoo wants him to.

“Yes,” Seungcheol answers. “But I’m still not sure if I’m gay. Maybe I’m bi? Or something? I can figure that out later.”

“Okay,” Seungkwan breathes. “So you’re in love with Wonwoo-hyung. Since when?”

Maybe since they got Luna, and Seungcheol thought, _This cat is precious to him, so I’ll do my best_. Or maybe since they moved in together, and Seungcheol thought, _This is nice. I could do this for the rest of my life_. Or maybe since they met in person, Wonwoo’s smile a little shy but brilliant, and Seungcheol thought, _What a handsome boy_. Or maybe since their Overwatch team lost a battle due to other people’s incompetence, and Wonwoo typed _man u were the only one who didnt suck ass on this team_ , and Seungcheol thought, _You were the only one_.

“Since always, I think,” he answers. “But I only realized it a couple of days ago.”

“You should tell him.”

And there it is, the thing that terrifies Seungcheol. He can handle being in love with his best friend, can handle sharing an apartment with him, can repress the urge to kiss Wonwoo every time he so much as blinks. He can get used to the flutter of his heart at the sight of Wonwoo in the morning, can deal with the emotions bubbling in the pit of his stomach. But what he can’t do, under any circumstances, is lose Wonwoo.

“What if he rejects me?” Seungcheol sighs, suddenly anxious and tired. “If things get weird between us and he doesn’t want to be friends anymore? Then what happens to—” he gestures around him, at the apartment at large, at Seungkwan, at his own chest. “Luna?”

“The cat will be fine, hyung,” Seungkwan says. “And so will your relationship.”

Seungcheol narrows his eyes. “Why do you sound so sure?”

“It’s not my place to say,” Seungkwan sing-songs. “But really, tell him. But only if you’re actually sure. It’s not funny to play with Wonwoo-hyung like that.”

Seungcheol doesn’t tell Wonwoo. Not because he isn’t sure, like Seungkwan still seems to think sometimes, as the days pass and Seungcheol does nothing. He is sure and he is serious. But it’s all very new, and being in love is actually, well—

It’s awful. It’s scary, makes Seungcheol doubt his every move, makes him feel dumb and stupid and like a teenager all over again, always afraid of doing the wrong thing or saying the wrong thing or _being_ the wrong thing. It makes him feel weak, nauseous, anxious, light-headed.

It makes him soft. His heart beats faster at just the sight of Wonwoo. Everything Wonwoo says makes him giggle like a fool. He longs to hold Wonwoo’s hand, and touch his face, and kiss the soft spot behind his ear.

It’s terrible. 

Seungcheol loves every second of it. 

He likes the quietness of it, the everyday routine of coming home and being greeted by Wonwoo’s grin that makes his heart settle and sing, _This is it, this is it_. He likes it when it’s a riot too, breathless, blood rushing to his ears when all he can think is that he must touch Wonwoo _now_ , right this instant, or he will die. He likes having his head filled with thoughts of Wonwoo, likes that he knows the things Wonwoo likes and doesn’t like, likes that he can make life a little easier for Wonwoo - his favorite chicken when he’s feeling sad, his comfort movie when he’s had a bad day, playing games with him just because. He likes that he wants to be around Wonwoo all the time, wants to take care of him and spoil him and love him.

January melts into February, and Seungcheol still doesn’t tell Wonwoo.

He gets home one Saturday evening, tired from an entire day with Jeonghan and Jisoo and their antics, to find Mingyu smirking in his living room.

“Hello,” he says. Notices Wonwoo’s displeased frown, Luna curled up on his lap. “What’s going on?”

“We sort of had a photography competition today,” Wonwoo replies.

“And I won,” Mingyu gloats.

Luna jumps down from Wonwoo’s lap and approaches Mingyu in slow, lazy steps. Mingyu screams.

“What happened?” Seungcheol sits by Wonwoo, both ignoring Mingyu’s cry for help.

Wonwoo sighs. “He got Myungho to be his model, so of course all his pictures turned out great. I got Jun.”

“Ah,” Seungcheol grimaces. Wonwoo mirrors it.

Mingyu, backed up against a wall with Luna sitting at his feet, continues to plead.

“I can help you next time,” Seungcheol says. “Be your model.”

“If you save me, I’ll let you have a rematch!” Mingyu yells.

“Thanks, hyung,” Wonwoo smiles. Seungcheol holds his hand for a second or two, squeezes, then lets go.

“Cheolie-hyung can be your model!” Mingyu goes on. “I’ll even let you use your camera!”

“Did you have dinner yet?” Seungcheol asks.

“The cat is going to kill me,” Mingyu says. He sounds like he’s actually, truly terrified. Luna just looks up at him. “Please save me, hyung. Please. At least tell my mother I love her.”

Wonwoo sighs and scoops Luna up from the floor. Mingyu rushes home quickly after.

So the next day, when Wonwoo asks over breakfast, “Can I take your picture by the river today?”, Seungcheol says yes.

It’s cold outside, wind cutting sharp and deep, so they walk close together until they reach the Jamsu bridge. There, Wonwoo has Seungcheol pose for the camera: looking out at the Han, and looking right into the lens, and smiling, and frowning, and walking, and standing still.

It’s nice, but it’s also not. Seungcheol fidgets under Wonwoo’s gaze, wonders what Wonwoo sees when he looks at him. What he sees when he looks at Wonwoo is this: a handsome man, with warm eyes and warm hands and a brilliant smile. A boyish heart, an essentially good person. 

The love of his life.

They cross the river to Banpo Hangang Park, where Seungcheol finds a patch of grass untouched by days-old snow and lies down. He looks at the clear sky for a while, and when his eyes start to hurt, he closes them. He hears the shutter of Wonwoo’s camera going off and off.

“Hey,” he says. He opens his eyes and looks at Wonwoo, who is admiring the photos he took with a smile on his face. “Lie here with me.”

Wonwoo hums. “Okay,” he says, and settles down next to Seungcheol.

In a move that is both bold and stupid, Seungcheol holds Wonwoo’s hand. Intertwines their fingers together. Brushes his thumb over Wonwoo’s wrist, where his pulse is doing a quick _thump thump thump_.

They stay like that for a few minutes, until the cold turns biting. They walk around the park then, still holding hands. Seungcheol is at risk of overflowing, of spilling his love all over the bicycle lanes and walkways, drip drip drip into the Han River until all of Seoul is aware of his feelings for the beautiful boy next to him.

Wonwoo lets go of his hand when they exit the park, but keeps close, shoulder brushing against Seungcheol’s as they walk. Seungcheol buries his hands deep inside the pocket of his coat, still warm from Wonwoo’s hold.

“Hey, hyung,” Wonwoo says. “There’s a place we could go.”

The place turns out to be the café where they met face to face for the first time, six years ago.

“It looks exactly the same,” Seungcheol says, looking around at the small tables and mismatched chairs.

Wonwoo orders them sandwiches and hot beverages. He also takes a few more pictures of Seungcheol and the café.

“Can I try too?” Seungcheol asks.

“Sure.”

Wonwoo hands over the camera and explains the basic settings - how to work the focus, the diaphragm, the shutter. Seungcheol doesn’t really understand any of it, so he sets it to automatic.

There’s little natural lightning coming from the windows and the harsh yellow lamp above their heads doesn’t do much for Wonwoo. Seungcheol thinks he’s beautiful anyway, and takes picture after picture of Wonwoo munching on his sandwich, smiling softly at him, tucking his hair under his beanie.

After the café, Wonwoo takes him to the movie theater.

“The one we went to that time doesn’t exist anymore,” he says. “I think there’s a hotel there now? But anyway. This one’s pretty close.”

It’s a small, cozy theater painted red and white and pink. There’s only two theaters: one is playing an action-filled American movie, with lots of cars and guns, from the looks of the poster. The other seems to be playing a romantic comedy with not-so-popular, not-so-beautiful Korean actors. The poster shows a young woman, smiling brightly, holding the hand of a scowling little boy, a small fence separating her from a young man, who is sighing long-suffering, right next to a screaming little girl.

It looks super cute. Seungcheol chooses that one.

It turns out to be the story of a young couple who wants to spend summer break together, just walking around the city and meeting friends and maybe kissing under trees. But their parents decide to go on trips, so they’re left to take care of their respective little siblings. The siblings hate each other, of course, and it’s up to the young couple to deal with their fights and screaming matches on top of the uncertainties of a new relationship and being young and in love.

Seungcheol loves it. It’s funny and light-hearted and adorable, and he maybe cries once or twice when it hits too close to home. Wonwoo says nothing about it, but he does hold Seungcheol’s hand through all of the closing credits.

They cross the bridge back to Yongsan when the sun is setting. It’s too cold to really walk after that, so they take the subway to where Mingyu works.

“Uh?” Wonwoo squints his eyes at the station they stop at, but doesn’t resist Seungcheol’s tugging of his sleeve. “Why are we getting off here?”

There’s still two stops until home, but, “We’re having dinner,” Seungcheol says.

The restaurant where Mingyu works is busy, like it usually is. They manage to get a table in the back, squeezed between the wall and a loud group of college students, but it’s nice. The food is good, and Wonwoo rests his sock-clad feet against Seungcheol’s under the table. Seungcheol looks up at him, questioning, searching; Wonwoo just gives him a closed-mouth smile and keeps eating.

Mingyu finds them when they’re almost done with the food.

“Hey!” he says cheerfully. “Staff told me you guys were here.”

“We were taking pictures all day,” Wonwoo says around a mouthful of rice. “For my revenge.”

Mingyu scoffs. “Let me see them.”

Wonwoo hands him the camera. Mingyu hums, face neutral, but his eyebrows rise higher and higher as he clicks the pictures. Wonwoo fidgets. Seungcheol is just confused.

“What?” he asks. “What’s going on? Are they… bad?”

“No, hyung,” Mingyu says. “They’re very good. They’re great.”

He gives Wonwoo a look that Seungcheol doesn’t understand. But Wonwoo clearly does, as he and Mingyu have some sort of silent conversation while Seungcheol watches.

There’s a yell of “Kim Mingyu!” from the kitchen.

“Gotta go back,” Mingyu sighs. “Or the boss will have my head.”

“Okay?” Seungcheol frowns, still not sure what’s going on.

Mingyu places the camera on the table. “The pictures really are good, hyung,” he tells Wonwoo, voice gentle. “Just be careful, okay?”

Wonwoo nods, finishes his food in silence, doesn’t look at Seungcheol as they pay and leave the restaurant and take the bus back home. Wonwoo plops on the couch, and Luna immediately claims his lap.

“Hey,” Seungcheol says, confused and frustrated and in love. They had such a lovely day together, and now Wonwoo won’t meet his eyes, and Seungcheol doesn’t even know _why_. “Can I see the pictures?”

Wonwoo sucks in a breath, shakes his head no.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, hyung.”

“Why not?” Seungcheol asks. When Wonwoo doesn’t answer, he adds “Please, Wonwoo-yah. Please, I want to see them.”

Wonwoo hesitates. Sighs, runs a hand through his hair. Finally, he gestures to his backpack, next to him on the couch. Seungcheol sits, grabs the camera from inside the backpack and turns it on.

The first couple of photos are nothing much. It’s the river, flanked by tall buildings on both sides, with a little bit of greenery here and there. And the Jamsu bridge, with cars and people and bikes.

Then there’s Seungcheol. He’s looking at the camera, smiling, and it would be a perfectly normal and boring picture, but it isn’t. It isn’t, because the sun hits his hair just so, creates a halo around his head. He looks angelic. He is the sole point of focus, the background blurry and indistinguishable, and the thing is that his smile reaches his eyes. He’s looking at Wonwoo, and his whole face reads _I am in love with you_.

Seungcheol feels caught. It’s so _clear_ , there’s no way Wonwoo doesn’t notice it. Even Mingyu must have noticed it.

Seungcheol takes a deep breath. His hands shake as he clicks onto the next photo, and the next, and the next. He looks helplessly in love in all of them, face shining with adoration for the boy behind the camera.

He gets to the ones Wonwoo took in the park. It’s his side profile - lying down, eyes closed, relaxed and sleepy, still the only thing in focus. The next picture is a close-up of his ear. Then his eyebrow. His eyelid. His jaw. The curve of his nose. His lips.

Seungcheol frowns. Notices, out of the corner of his eyes, Wonwoo fretting on the couch. Goes back to the picture. It brings a word to mind, but he doesn’t know exactly which one - loneliness? Longing?

Then it’s the pictures he took of Wonwoo in the café. It’s very obvious they were taken by someone who didn’t know what they were doing, because they’re dark and blurry in places they shouldn’t be dark and blurry. But Wonwoo’s face is clear in all of them. Wonwoo’s smile reaches his eyes in all of them. Wonwoo is looking at him, and his whole face reads _I am in love with you_.

Seungcheol almost drops the camera. Instead he puts it to the side, takes a shaky breath that doesn’t calm him at all, and says, “I’m going to bed early. Goodnight.”

He flees to his bedroom like a coward. Luna comes after him, meowing and trying to bite his foot, but he closes the door on the cat’s grey face.

He doesn’t sleep. He spends the whole night thinking, analyzing, getting his hopes up and not knowing what to do with it. He counts the facts he knows:

One: Luna will meow at four in the morning for food. 

Two: Wonwoo will wake up and feed him. 

Three: Seungcheol will wake up and not feed him, will go back to sleep. 

Four: He will get up at eight, and Wonwoo will have breakfast ready, just the way he knows Seungcheol likes it. 

Five: Wonwoo will smile. 

Six: If Seungcheol asks, Wonwoo will hug him, or hold his hand, or pet his hair. 

Seven: If Seungcheol asks, Wonwoo will cuddle him on the couch or in bed. 

Eight: If Seungcheol asks, Wonwoo will make him dinner, and if Seungcheol asks, Wonwoo might just kiss him on the mouth.

 _The cat will be fine, hyung_ , Seungkwan had said, after advising Seungcheol to tell Wonwoo about his feelings. _And so will your relationship_. And, also, _It’s not my place to say_.

To say what, exactly? That Wonwoo is also in love with him? That Seungkwan knew this whole time? That Mingyu probably knew too, and who knows who else?

Seungcheol wants to throttle his friends, but most of all he wants to shake Wonwoo awake, say “I love you. Do you love me back?” and wait for his answer with bated breath.

He waits until four. Four thirty. Five. But Luna’s meow doesn’t come, no scratching on the door, no sound of objects being knocked down in the living room.

Seungcheol goes to investigate. He finds Luna curled up next to his litter box, a pool of blood and puke close to him.

“Luna-yah?” he asks, voice high and frightened. Luna just looks at him and meows pitifully.

Seungcheol shakes Wonwoo awake. Says, “Luna is sick, we need to take him to the vet right now.”

Wonwoo is on his feet immediately, babbling, “What, what’s going on, where’s my cat?”

He takes Wonwoo to where Luna’s still on the floor, unmoving. Seungcheol grabs their coats and wallets, puts on his shoes and brings Wonwoo his.

“Your shoes, Wonwoo-yah, come on,” he nudges Wonwoo softly. Wonwoo doesn’t stir from his spot kneeling on the floor above Luna, petting his head and saying, _My baby, my baby_. “We need to go now.”

It’s a couple more minutes until Wonwoo calms down enough to put on his shoes and coat. They can’t find the carrier bag anywhere in the apartment, so Seungcheol very gently picks Luna up and carries him in his arms to the vet emergency a couple of blocks away.

Luna throws up again as soon as they reach the clinic. The vet rushes him inside and runs a battery of tests. It turns out to be a kidney stone.

“There’s a large one,” she says, showing them the images. “And a few small ones too.”

“So what now?” Seungcheol asks. Wonwoo leans heavily against him, too sad or too scared to speak.

“Surgery for the big one,” the vet sighs. “I’m not going to lie, it’s a risk. There are other methods, but it’s a pretty big stone, and—”

“Do it,” Wonwoo whispers. He sounds firm, sure. Seungcheol nods along.

Wonwoo paces around the reception desk while Luna is in surgery. Seungcheol calls the school and tells them he’s had a family emergency, then calls the bookstore and tells them Wonwoo’s had a family emergency. After half an hour of Wonwoo walking non-stop, Seungcheol manhandles him onto a chair and hugs him.

“It’ll be okay,” he says, because it’s the only thing he can say. “It’ll be okay.”

Wonwoo’s tears wet his shoulder and collarbone, but Seungcheol doesn’t mind. He just holds Wonwoo close to his chest, closer, and Wonwoo wraps his arms around Seungcheol’s waist tight.

They stay like that until the doctor returns, saying they removed the stone and Luna should be okay. Seungcheol sighs with relief and thanks the vet profusely while Wonwoo cries even harder than before.

Luna stays at the vet’s for a couple more days, then she clears him to go home and rest. Wonwoo takes the entire week off from work, and while Seungcheol can’t do that, he leaves as early as possible and practically runs home every day.

Luna absolutely hates the cone, so they don’t make him wear it, but that means Wonwoo is after him all the time to make sure he doesn’t lick his stitches. He eats his food fine, but doesn’t drink water, so Seungcheol buys a syringe and holds Luna with his mouth open for Wonwoo to give him water. Giving him his medicines is a nightmare, because he hides under the couch or behind the fridge and doesn’t come out unless they bribe him with fresh chicken.

After two weeks of this, Seungcheol is absolutely exhausted. He flops on the couch one evening, limbs everywhere and groaning. Wonwoo chuckles from the kitchen.

“What?” Seungcheol whines, pouts.

“Nothing, just,” Wonwoo comes closer, phone in hand. “You guys are the same.”

Seungcheol looks at Luna on the floor, sprawled on his back in a fashion very similar to Seungcheol. Wonwoo snaps a picture and goes back to making dinner.

It’s just then that Seungcheol remembers the camera, the photos, their lovely day with the park and the movie and Mingyu’s restaurant. He feels silly for forgetting, not that he loves Wonwoo and might possibly be loved back, but that he still hasn’t said the actual words to him.

They have dinner. Seungcheol’s hands sweat as he thinks, _I’m going to tell him now_. They watch the news. Seungcheol’s brow sweats as he thinks, _I’m going to tell him now_. They brush their teeth. The back of Seungcheol’s knees sweat as he thinks—

“What is it, hyung?”

Wonwoo is looking at him, arms crossed. Seungcheol places his toothbrush back in its cup, right next to Wonwoo’s, and thinks, _Well, this is as good a moment as any_.

“I really want to kiss you right now.”

Wonwoo stares at him. Seungcheol stares back, lets Wonwoo search his face for whatever it is he needs to find. Finally Wonwoo sighs, uncrosses his arms. His lips curl into a smile, eyes soft and fond as he says, “Then kiss me.”

Seungcheol does.

***

Soonyoung hisses, “They’re coming, everybody shut up,” and turns off the lights. Seungcheol tries to stifle his giggles as Wonwoo’s fingers poke his ribs in the dark, until they hear Mingyu’s and Jihoon’s footsteps approaching outside. They’re arguing very loudly, something about the merits of cleaning their living room tonight versus tomorrow morning. Mingyu insists they clean now, because it’s disgusting with dust and remains of food everywhere, so engrossed in making his point he’s not even looking straight ahead when he opens the door and turns on the lights.

“Surprise!” they all yell, Minghao holding a birthday cake. Mingyu yells back, startled, and jumps back so fast he knocks Jihoon to the ground.

It’s a fun party. There’s pizza and fried chicken and beer and soju. Seungcheol spends half his time being bullied by Jeonghan and Jisoo and the other half curled up next to Wonwoo on the couch.

Wonwoo is warm and comfortable. He throws an arm around Seungcheol’s shoulder and brings him closer, drops a kiss to the top of his head. Mingyu, wearing a party hat and sitting across from them, makes a face.

“You guys are disgusting,” he says, no real heat to his voice.

“Don’t be jealous, my single friend,” Seungcheol sing-songs. Wonwoo laughs, a full belly laugh, and Seungcheol can feel it next to his own rib cage, his own heart.

Seeing all their friends in Mingyu and Jihoon’s tiny apartment reminds Seungcheol that Wonwoo’s birthday is three months away. Maybe it’d be nice to do something like this for him too. He thinks Wonwoo would like it, wonders how Luna would react to having a bunch of strangers trespassing upon his territory. The thought makes him smile.

They go back home when it’s almost midnight, crossing the hallway to their own apartment with full stomachs and slightly buzzed minds. 

Luna is waiting by the door.

“Hey buddy,” Seungcheol says, pets Luna’s head with limbs uncoordinated and ends up almost poking him in the eye. “Oops. Sorry.”

Luna meows, scandalized, and goes to twist himself between Wonwoo’s legs. Wonwoo picks him up and gives him a sloppy kiss on the nose.

They brush their teeth side by side, Luna watching them from the doorway. Then they go to bed - Wonwoo’s bed, larger than Seungcheol’s and more comfortable, where the two of them plus the cat have been sleeping every night for the past two months. Seungcheol feels like he hasn’t been in his own bedroom at all, except to grab clothes or books, and he’s totally fine with that.

But Luna doesn’t climb on and starts to knead the blanket and bite their feet like he usually does. Instead he sits perfectly still just outside the room, meowing pitifully.

“Oh! I forgot to feed him!” Wonwoo says, then gets off the bed in a hurry, elbowing Seungcheol in the process. “Sorry, baby!”

“It’s fine,” Seungcheol sighs.

“I was talking to the cat,” Wonwoo laughs.

Luna follows him to the kitchen. Seungcheol stretches on the bed, releases his muscles with a sigh. His phone beeps. It’s a text from Seungkwan.

 **SEUNGKWAN**  
can you guys stop please 🙄  


Seungcheol smiles, chest warm and giddy. Wonwoo is his boyfriend. Wonwoo _loves_ him, has loved him for who knows how long, which still baffles Seungcheol sometimes.

He saves the picture.

Wonwoo comes back to the bedroom, yawning and rubbing at his eyes.

Seungcheol loves him.

“Hey,” he says. He abandons his phone on the bedside table and turns to Wonwoo fully, opens his arms. “Come here.”

Wonwoo does. He inserts himself in the space created just for him and brings his mouth over Seungcheol’s. 

It’s not perfect. He’s over-enthusiastic and maybe still a little drunk, because there’s too much tongue and their teeth clack at some point. Seungcheol laughs, a bit startled, and Wonwoo follows. Then he grabs Seungcheol by the shoulders and just breathes into his mouth for a while.

They try again. Seungcheol kisses the corner of Wonwoo’s mouth, then his upper lip, reverent and careful. Wonwoo kisses him slow, deep, sweet like honey.

It’s perfect.

After, Wonwoo tucks his head in the crook of Seungcheol’s neck and sighs, tangles their legs together. Luna joins them soon enough, hopping on the bed to lie right next to Seungcheol’s head.

“I think our cat wants to kill me in my sleep,” he says. He gently pokes Luna until he moves his butt away.

He can feel Wonwoo smile into his shoulder.

“You said our cat, hyung,” he says, delighted. “That’s the first time you say he’s ours.”

Seungcheol flushes. “Well, he is, isn’t he? Unless you want him all for yourself.”

“No,” Wonwoo shakes his head. “I want him to be ours.”

That feels big, somehow. Feels like commitment, like responsibility. Seungcheol is terrified, and at the same time wants it more than he’s ever wanted anything else.

“Our cat,” he says, kissing Wonwoo’s forehead, Luna’s warm body close by.

He doesn’t think he needs anything else.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you all for reading & i hope you liked it!!! i'm on twitter @hellodeerwrites!
> 
> -everything luna does is based on things my actual cat does lol he's terrible and i love him
> 
> -also jeonghan is definitely not a spy. he probably has a really boring job like, i don't know, working for the department of transport or something. but he likes to be mysterious, keep people guessing. keeps everyone on their toes u kno
> 
> -title of this fic comes from the priest's speech in s02ep06 of fleabag: 
> 
> "Love is awful. It's awful. It's painful. It's frightening. Makes you doubt yourself, judge yourself, distance yourself from the other people in your life, makes you selfish, makes you creepy, makes you obbsessed with your hair, makes you cruel, makes you say and do thing you never thought you would do. It's all any of us want, and it's hell when we get there. So, no wonder it's something we don't want to do on our own. I was taught if we're born with love then life is about choosing the right place to put it. People talk about that a lot, it feeling right, "When it feels right, it's easy", but I'm not sure that's true. It takes strength to know what's right. And love isn't something that weak people do. Being a romantic takes a hell of a lot of hope. I think what they mean is when you find somebody that you love, it feels like hope. So thank you for bringing us all together here today. To take words from this book of love: be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the Lord."


End file.
